


Enter

by arthureverest



Category: Maurice (1987), Maurice - E. M. Forster
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-04 17:02:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17308421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arthureverest/pseuds/arthureverest
Summary: i had to write something for these two and i probably will write more





	Enter

Literature classes were hard for Morrie. He tried to keep up, he did, but the pace was always a spot too fast for him. August had no issues with pacing, so Morrie would often look to him to talk about the readings. August would flirt with him all the while and Morrie would remain completely oblivious. Morrie thought of him like an older brother.

August often invited him to his room to study together, and the one time Morrie took him up on that offer was the time he met Clive. August wasn't in the room at the time, he was out busy being a socialite or whatever. 

“Oh! Hello, sorry to interrupt,” Morrie apologized.

“Hello. I’m assuming you're here for my roommate, he's out at the moment. Are you Maurice?” 

“Yes, actually. Did he mention I might come by?”

“No, you just fit his description of his dungeons and dragons character. It's the hair, really. But he does create his characters after whatever boy has stolen his heart that week.”

“Stolen his heart?” Morrie repeated quietly. 

He wasn't surprised that his classmate was attracted to men, nor was he upset by it. But the decision to crush on him of all people seemed so alien to him. He didn't exactly have the confidence for even the thought of romance. 

“Oh certainly. He goes on about your, or his character's, patience, shoulders and Venetian blond hair. It really is the hair that told me, not that your shoulders aren't lovely.”

“Uh, thanks.” 

Morrie didn't know how to go about this but he didn't particularly feel like his planned study meeting with August right at this moment. He had some thoughts he needed to process first. He left quickly without saying goodbye.

He caught himself examining his shoulders, tousling his hair in the mirror. It was so strange to him to think of these things as attractive, they were just simple things, attributes, unassuming. They were just facts, nothing beautiful about them. 

That night he dreamt of walking into that room again and seeing August Risley laying on his dorm-sized bed like he was being painted on the titanic, wearing nothing but the biking shorts Morrie sometimes saw him wearing. He didn't bring it up to anyone. 

The next time he saw Clive it was happenstance, but Clive stopped to apologize. 

“Hey, I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable by talking about all that. I didn't know that you didn't know, and actually thought you were coming over for… Well I mean, you wouldn't have been the first to come knocking for dick.”

Morrie giggled lightly. “No, I'm just failing American Lit.” 

“I see. Well, I'm no English major but I can help if you need someone to keep you on task or anything. Or if you just need a friend. Here, have my number.” He rustled through his bag to find something to write on.

Morrie didn't know why he'd kept that scrap of paper after he'd plugged the number into his phone.

They started spending more time together. Simple at first, but they got more comfortable around each other fast, like they had known each other for years.

Morrie found himself lost in stolen moments with Clive, looking up at him after their hands brush against each other while walking and not knowing what to think of the feeling. He craved something about being around him, and he hadn't figured it was anything but loneliness until the summer term came around. 

Morrie sat in a creaky chair he'd found at a thrift store for absurdly cheap, and Clive sat on the floor with his back against Morrie's leg. His head happened to be at the perfect height for Morrie to see where his hair was mussed, and the perfect distance for Morrie to adjust it. He didn't think before brushing his hand through his hair again, and after the second it was important to him to go for a third. Morrie couldn't remember what Clive's eyes looked like when Clive turned to look up at him and wordlessly got up to embrace him, straddling his body. The chair was creaking the whole time.

Warmth rushed to Morrie's face and he understood many things in that moment, things he had and would continue to fail to understand in other moments. 

Noises came through the hall, calling both of their names and they jumped up and separated. As friends came into the room, they both welcomed and detested the distraction. They didn't look each  
other in the eye before Clive left.

The next time Clive saw Morrie he rushed to pull him aside. 

“Jesus Christ, Clive, what is it?”

“I need to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

“That I love you.” 

All the knowledge that Morrie'd had previously immediately left his brain. He short-circuited, and the only thing he thought to say was “I don't understand.”

“What do you not understand, Morrie, I'm telling you I love you.”

“I don't understand,” he repeated.

Clive took his hand tenderly and kissed the top of it. 

“I love you.” he said softly into the hand.

Morrie felt the statement in his chest that time, only just beginning to process it. He had every impulse to reject him and say ‘it's not like that, I'm not like that’ but he knew enough not to do so. Instead he hugged Clive as quick as he could, startling him. 

“I love you too, in your very own way.”

Clive settled into the hug, sighing, letting out all the energy from the courage he'd saved up.

"I love you." he repeated for the tenth time at least.


End file.
